Published on: 10/3/2014
Restless

So many sleepless nights
Lit by passion
You may think for the flesh
For the rough hands of a lover,

And yes—that does delight.

You may think for money
For the comfort of greater wealth,

And yes—that does delight.

You may think for fame or reputation
For impact or caliber,

But what keeps my heart sleepless
Are the soft folds of ink-stained paper.

Rough calluses of fingers turning pages
Limitless universes
Bound by the spines,

And yes—that does delight.